


Iron Man & the Mistress of Death

by thedivinemsem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Female Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29996997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedivinemsem/pseuds/thedivinemsem
Summary: Iron Man is Tony Stark and Tony Stark is Iron Man. But maybe, just maybe, in this amalgamation of hero and genius, the lines have blurred too much, to the point that people make the mistake of assuming Iron Man and Tony Stark were always one symbiotic creature. Perhaps a certain Mistress of Death can help separate these two identities and in the process return Tony to himself.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	Iron Man & the Mistress of Death

**Tony's POV**

  
When I woke up that morning the first thing I realised was that I was in somebody else's house. It wasn't any of the safe houses the Avengers had and I had no recollection of just how I'd gotten here. I tried to sit up, clutching my head as jackhammers worked away at my brain. I grimaced as I tasted the inside of my mouth, giving up on trying to remember where I was or how I'd gotten here. It was at that moment that I heard a door open and shut briefly, before a woman I'd never seen before walked into the living room, where I had woken on the couch.

  
"Morning sleepyhead," she said softly (was that a British accent I detected?), smiling at me as she took out her headphones and wound them around an iPod. She was wearing a sports bra, yoga pants and a pair of runners, so I was assuming she'd gone for a run. Then how long was I out for?

  
"You've been out for about nine hours or so," she said, and I realised I'd spoken out loud. She placed her device on the coffee table and sat next to me, beginning to take off her shoes.  
"So-" I began, but immediately stopped, wincing at the sound of my gravelly voice. I cleared my throat and tried again. "So, I guess we hooked up then?"

  
Her smile widened into a grin as she nodded, and I frowned, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

  
"Don't worry though," she said, taking off one shoe and starting on the other. "You are a very generous lover. The girls loved it."

  
"The girls?" I asked, wincing as I thought of just what that meant. Wait, the old Tony would've loved that…God, I'm getting old. Thankfully I didn't speak aloud this time.

  
"Yeah, my two friends," she said, finishing with her second shoe and standing up, stretching her arms over her head. I couldn't keep my eyes off her physique as she did, my gaze caught on her impressive four pack and toned body. Stop it Tony, I scolded myself.

  
"I mean, they had to get home because they've got class today, but we all had a great time," she grinned, lowering her arms.

  
"Class?" I asked worriedly.

  
"Yeah, they're seniors in high school," she said, chipper as anything. "Don't worry, they're 18."

  
I face palmed, focusing on how Pepper was going to kill me. "Alright, alright," I said, picking my head up. "This isn't too bad. I mean, I defiled three young women but it's ok, I'm not a totally terrible person, just a partially horrible one."

  
"Tony, Tony," she said, clicking her fingers in front of my distracted gaze. I turned my face in her direction to see her holding in laughter.

  
"Look, I bet you were a hellcat in the sack," I said. "But this really isn't funny. I'm basically the definition of a creepy old man."

  
"That may be true regardless," she said, snorting a little. "But you can relax. Nothing happened, I'm just playing with you." She smirked as I stared at her, both horrified and slightly impressed at her practical joke.

  
"You- but- what?" I asked, squinting my eyes as the pounding in my head continued.

  
She laughed, and I found myself smiling slightly with her, not even noticing at first. "Well, serves you right for getting completely pissed last night," she said.

  
"So what did happen then?" I asked. "And the truth this time, hot stuff."

  
She shrugged. "I bartend at Jimmy's corner. You came in around eleven, ranted and raved more and more with each drink you finished. Then, by closing time I tried to access your phone and ended up speaking to a lovely AI called Jarvis, who said he could get a car out to us." I nodded along, keeping up with what she was saying.

  
"In the end I didn't want to wait long enough for the car so I took you with me and Jarvis said he'd organise for a car to pick you up at noon, which is about half an hour away, give or take," she finished, shrugging her shoulders as she gave me a half smile. "By the way, Jarvis? So much better than Siri."

  
I chuckled lightly. "Yeah, he's a life saver." I scratched my head, growing used to the natural light streaming in from outside the more I kept my eyes opened. I hadn't gotten so drunk in a very long while. But now that I was thinking about it, I remembered that yesterday was the day we got back from a particularly taxing mission (if I had my dates right). Cap and I had gotten into another pointless argument and I had stormed out of the tower and into the first slightly seedy bar I could find. Now that I think about it, I can't even remember what we were fighting about. And that had nothing to do with me getting drunk off my ass but more with the fact that Cap and I mostly fought when we were both hyped up on adrenaline and emotion.

  
"So anyway," I said, gingerly getting up from the couch. My as-yet-unidentified saviour helped me, giving me her arm. I paused for a moment, gathering my bearings, before she lightly tugged at my arm and lead me out of the room and into the adjoining kitchen. "Thank you for taking pity on me by the way. I guess that puts me in your debt, a word I've never used in correlation with myself at all."  
"Don't even worry about it," she said, depositing me in a breakfast bar stool and making her way around the island to the cupboard. "You aren't the first drunk I've had to take care of."

  
"Oh? Do many men make it to your sofa?" I asked, smirking a little as I raised my eyebrow.

  
"Well, my drunk uncle didn't always make it to the couch, you see," she said, not turning around though I thought I heard her voice waver.

  
"Damn, I'm sorry," I said, grimacing for the umpteenth time this morning. "I didn't mean to overstep. I know what it's like to have a bit of a dead beat father."

  
She turned back around, carrying a loaf of bread and some peanut butter and jelly. She shrugged, saying, "It's ok, not like you knew. Besides, that's in the past. I'm here now and I've taken control of my life again."

  
"A worthy pursuit indeed," I replied. "What does that involve exactly?"

  
"I bartend Thursday through Sunday night and I also work on my novel," she said. "And no, before you ask, you haven't read any of my work, yet! I'm in the midst of my final draft before publication."  
"What's it about?" I queried. "All the writers I've ever met are either super narcissistic or super insecure."

  
"I like to think I'm a combination of both," she said. "But it's actually a supernatural story. It introduces the concept of a Death Guardian – essentially a Grim Reaper. Now everyone has a Grim Reaper that guides us and stays with us throughout our life, preventing us from dying before our time and then protecting our souls when we finally make the final journey. In my story the main character can see her Death Guardian, which causes a few problems here and there."

  
"Well, it certainly sounds intense," I said, mulling the idea over in my mind. With everything else in the world, it wouldn't surprise me if there actually were Death Guardians. I mentioned as much to my new friend.

  
She just chuckled, a little awkwardly in fact. I raised my eyebrow but she just shook her head. "Every author thinks their creations are real. Doesn't mean they are," she said, waving the matter off. She handed me half of a PB&J sandwich, keeping half for herself. Just as we took our first bites there was a knock at the door. My hostess placed her sandwich down, dusting crumbs off her hands as she made her way to the door. I followed along behind her, slowly, as I continued to munch on my sandwich half. She reached forward to open the door and we were both greeted by a slightly smirking Natasha.

  
"Jarvis sent me to do the morning after pick up," she said.

"Why'd he send you?" I asked. "Where's Happy?"

  
"Enjoying the vacation time you gave him," she said. "Jarvis asked if I'd come get you so he wouldn't have to call a service again."

  
"Again?" the third member of our group asked. "I take it this happens rather frequently then?"

  
"Too frequently, I'd say," Natasha replied. "Hi, I'm Natasha, I work with Tony. Thanks for putting him up for the night by the way."

  
My still unnamed angel of mercy shook Natasha's offered hand (since when was she so cordial with strangers anyway?) and grinned. "I love that you Avengers are so down to Earth about everything. Just a casual 'we work together'. It's a little amusing."

  
I caught Natasha covering a small smirk as she began to turn away from us and towards the car. "Nice meeting you. Tony, I'll be in the car."

  
I began to follow her before I remembered something. I turned to face my new friend, walking backwards as I talked. "So do I get a number or am I just going to haunt your workplace to "accidentally run into you" again?" I asked, grinning cheekily as I used my fingers to form air quotes.

  
"My best friend always said that men should court a woman properly, so I don't think you get my number just yet," she called back, leaning against the bannisters of her porch railing. "But feel free to come by the bar any time. I'll look forward to seeing you."

  
I paused as I reached the car, one hand on the roof and one on the door as I looked back for one final glance. "What about a name? Though I could just keep referring to you as my angel of mercy."  
She grinned. "I wondered when you were going to ask. My name is Harmony, Mr Stark, Harmony Potter."


End file.
